Topics of Conversation
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Post-P&P. No one told Darcy that Mr. Collins had proposed to Elizabeth—so of course, Mary is the one to bring it up out of the blue to him.


**_Soli Deo Gloria_**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Pride and Prejudice.**

**During my yearly rereading of P&P, I realized something: "Yo, does Darcy _know _that Collins proposed to Elizabeth?" Then realized that it would be _hi-lar-ious _in fic form.**

Mr. Collins suffered from severe nervous tremors when he was relayed in a letter one day from his dear cousin Elizabeth of the news of her entire family's invitation to Rosings Park by Her Ladyship herself, Lady de Borough. Having been thoroughly informed by his most thoughtful and forgiving benefactress of all the facts of the affair (no doubt to unburden her own heart of the grievances transpired against it by Elizabeth), he marveled at the remarkable forgiveness and generosity of heart his Lady had to become reconciled to her nephew and his choice of wife, despite their decisions made expressly against her own sagacious advice.

It was the sole subject discussed every time Lady Catherine de Borough condescended to their level and invited them for dinner and evenings at Rosings. Charlotte's private thoughts of the Lady being in sore need of an all-listening ear to her endless commentary were kept concealed from her husband; thus, the weeks passed before the arrival of the large party of guests to Rosings. Numbered among these guests were the awestruck Mrs. Bennet, the ruthful and colloquial Mr. Bennet, their stubbornly observant middle daughter Mary, and subdued, yet bright-eyed next daughter, Kitty. Lady Catherine de Borough counted among her blessings the fact that the ruinous Mr. Wickham and his wife were still off in the North, so it wouldn't be prevailed upon her to invite the homewreckers who held little regard for morality or public reputation for themselves or their family to her beloved estate.

Mr. and Mrs. Bingley arrived as well within the day; Lady de Borough, despite herself, enjoyed the Bingleys. Mr. Bingley was an agreeable young man, not quite so well-endowed monetarily as her nephew, but still with good manners, pleasant face, and a tendency to listen rather than to speak, which was preferable to Her Lady. Mrs. Bingley, as well, while not as accomplished as Georgiana (who welcomed her wholeheartedly, excited to be joined together with another sister to her beloved Lizzy), remained the prettiest of the Bennet girls, was full of good manners, and a tendency as much as her husband's to be agreeable in all she heard and said.

Yet none could hold a candle to the arrival of her nephew and his choice of wife. Lady Catherine de Borough, a lady of sound mind and keen observation, foresaw the ill consequences of unduly cutting off ties between her own estate and her nephew's, and while still sore was the spot regarding the subject of him joining families with her dear daughter Anne, resolved to put such differences behind them for the future of their relationships and families.

She welcomed Elizabeth with as much cold civility as politeness could muster and Elizabeth, of a nature that now knew when to take offense and when to laugh it off as one of life's hilarities, wore such a face of smiles and wit as to confuse her new great into a state of perpetual grumpiness. It was a nature of merriment and fun that pleased Darcy to see, as he wished to not see Lizzy be burned once more by the long-held habits of his matriarchal aunt.

The tea following was of an interrogatory and slightly ruthless vein. They were in a choppy sea Lady Catherine de Borough was a master captain of; Elizabeth combated the waves and merciless winds that tossed her about like a captain seamlessly steering his ship; Darcy threw a cannonball or two whenever the occasion arose for its necessary deployment in combat, but else-wise left all alone to his wife, who proved herself as successful a combatant in a duel as any knight. Her mother made the unwise choice of dipping her toes into the perilous waters occasionally, thinking herself up for the challenge; but even Mrs. Bennet, who thought herself the winner of many a fine debate against her languid husband, found herself retreating for shore more often than she found herself satisfied with victory. She peered across the dining room table at her daughter, sitting across from her husband, who sat at the right hand of the head and Lady of the table, and wondered how her pernicious, headstrong Lizzy hadn't fallen out of the running yet from sheer breathlessness.

Mr. Collins withheld not his tongue at length during the course of the meal, but found himself talked over by the good Lady and by his dear cousin on numerous occasions. Finding it noticeably rude on the part of his cousin, but only due her rank on the part of Her Ladyship, he considered it good manners on his part to let them so forth speak; it would be intolerably rude to withheld any of the pretty conversation being spoken by either of these ladies from any of their good company.

Pretty conversation it could not be considered by anybody except Mr. Collins, but no other wittier, spicier conversation could there be found for tableside amusement. Among those deriving the most satisfaction and pleasure from said conversation were, in no especial order, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Collins, Georgiana Darcy, and her brother.

Mr. Collins, eager for something of subsistence of his to be heard and regarded with favor by at least _one _by the large assembled party—each member of which he had a vested interest to see him as an eager and spellbinding conversant—decided it good, fine, and natural that he should make a second attempt into the conversation of the group as they all took their seats in the drawing room for the activities as shall follow such a dinner. The fracture of the group must take place, to different card tables, to musical instruments, to coffee and the good chairs.

No invitation was solicited or offered to him to join any particular rendering of the fractures, and he saw immediately that he wanted to remain by Her Ladyship's side, but her quadrille card table, consisting of herself, Elizabeth, Darcy, and his own Mrs. Collins, was a four-player game. He made no notice of the fact that Lady Catherine de Borough had surrounded herself with the three other shrewdest people in the room and looked instead for a good position to take up.

Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, Mr. Bennet, Bingley, Jane, and Anne made up a game of vingt-un, a particular favorite of Bingley's; but as adding him would require a change of venue, as the table they sat at had a limited number of seats and one of these must be occupied by Mrs. Jenkinson for the sole purpose of attending to the minute needs of Anne de Borough, this withdrew itself as a viable option. Georgiana was called upon by her proud brother and sister-in-law to play upon the piano; while the enthusiasm for a particular piece was announced, Mr. Collins found there was no song to be sung with it; he decided that there was great pleasure to be derived from this group by the playing of this particular piece, even more so than if he added to their happiness by singing for them, a skill he had no desperate grasp of but would deploy to increase the happiness and demands of the masses.

He found no great pleasure in the company of a book when surrounded by such opportunity for conversation, however unavailable that conversation and even listeners seemed to be. But then he found a perfect ear for his beauteous observations and recitations. A Miss Bennet, the middle daughter, was lost in the world of a book, having found that pleasure he could not while in the midst of all who respected him in the world. He pounced upon his unsuspecting prey with ready words on his lips.

While usually able to converse well with no repartee in the ring, Mr. Collins found the response from his bookish, odd cousin Mary lackluster at best. It was almost intolerable rudeness that she should still engage with her book while one of her hosts was trying to engage her narrow attention on a conversation about the estate. One could never discuss the beautiful Rosings Park in too great detail, even if conversation upon the Park had become severely exhausted and picked over by two worthier opponents at the tea table merely moments before.

He found no great happiness in her company, and little less could be said of her part. When Darcy withdrew from the quadrille game after a few rounds, Mr. Collins made good use of this vacancy and leapt in. Darcy observed the happenings of each part of the room and smiled when Georgiana looked up from her beautiful playing. Every request of her she played rightly and well; and above all, she seemed keenly happy about the company they retained and the relations they two had gained. While Aunt Catherine and cousin Anne were not to be made light of, one did dearly enjoy the familial feeling the squabbling Bennets and warm-hearted Bingleys brought with them. Only with the arrival of cousin Fitzwilliam tomorrow would their happiness be completed.

Darcy, finding his sister thus still occupied and no great desire to join his boisterous in-laws for vingt-un, stood by Mary Bennet. Her silence and obvious ignorance of his close existence to her was balm against his soul as he inhaled and enjoyed the moments away from the energy and conversation entertained by the card tables.

Thus it was a little like a personal betrayal when Mary set her book down and observed him and launched into conversation. "Your sister plays uncommonly well, and her singing voice is quite exquisite and graceful."

Darcy remembered her own show of ostentatious singing at Bingley's ball and realized this was a compliment from a humbled spirit. "I agree that she has a well-developed talent and a remarkable presence in the spotlight. I cannot say that she and I are alike in this respect."

Mary's observations on his sister, now satisfied with a response, were moved upon to another of their fellows. She'd found interest of each person, and wished someone to hear them aloud. Darcy, offering himself as much a listening ear to her as she was to Mr. Collins, was told, "Bingley's fondness of vingt-un is compounded by the good showing of my parents. However silly a game it is, it provides the appropriate venue and activity for conversation to take place."

Darcy saw Bingley laugh at something their shared father-in-law said, a laugh their shared mother-in-law seemed pleased in heart and soul with, and instead of finding stupidity and an inferiority of class as he would've found in this some months ago, instead found a pleasure in such happiness of such persons as had come to mean much to him. "I am also glad of their time together. Your father seems more welcome to conversation than in past, and your mother in less."

Mary found no offense in this, but instead took up the reins. "Yes, an exceedingly welcome change to all who are aware of their usual roles. And," seeing Mr. Collins's conversation being buried by the almost-unobservant Lady Catherine de Borough, said, "for the sake of all in the room, Mr. Collins has found himself in a place where he is a far more eager listener than talker."

Darcy inhaled. He too found this as a relief. "Indeed. I do not believe that he believes himself anything other than happy, however."

"Indeed. He found an excellent life-mate in Charlotte Lucas. She holds not as much conversation as he; if Elizabeth had married him as he wanted, he would've had to talk far less, taking degrees away from his happiest occupation every hour of every day."

Darcy blinked, and peered down at his unsuspecting sister-in-law, who once again spoke without caring what feelings it discovered in others as long as her keen and intelligent observations saw light of day. "Your understanding is that Mr. Collins had proposed an offer of marriage to Elizabeth?"

"Oh yes; upon his first visit to Meryton, his intent was to align himself with one of Father's daughters—of that, I'm sure; it's the judicious choice, is it not? My observations tells me that even Mr. Collins could tell that Jane and Bingley were infatuated with each other, as any other keen observer would note"—Darcy cleared his throat uncomfortably but Mary, keen observer she claimed to be, noticed not—"and decided to make the ill-fated choice of asking Elizabeth. Elizabeth is far more headstrong than he could account for; it was an obscene choice, having been made without any real time in her presence. Elizabeth is too much for 'most any man, and would not have him. Still, he expressed surprise upon her response! My mother still more! The house experienced such uproar and tumultuous tempers and fits of hysterics on the part of our mother as has been since unheard of; I partook in little of these unseemly fits and kept to myself; Mr. Collins and Elizabeth both made foolish choices and my parents' responses could be more measured and even-tempered, as my eyes tell me . . ."

Darcy let his sister-in-law listen to the sound of her own voice as he withdrew into his own thoughts and observations. Lizzy hadn't told him of this first marriage proposal; he found himself horrified by the idea of another man wanting her, and still, that man being Mr. Collins! Mr. Collins, of all men in England! The attentions of Mr. Wickham were one thing, but the audacity of Mr. Collins actually thinking that Lizzy Bennet could settle for the life of his wife of his parish! Foolish man!

Darcy immediately wanted to know why she hadn't told him of this news, but talked himself down as he watched her at the quadrille table. His understanding of her actions was honed and mastered after months of interaction and time intent on learning her motives; her telling him of such news would do nothing to increase their shared happiness, and only poison his later interactions with his aunt's employed clergyman. She was secure in her love of him, and he in his for her. Why should they let the stupidity of such a foolish man ruin what was theirs?

That said, when their parties departed that late evening, Darcy dared to engage in the subject as he and Elizabeth headed to their quarters together. "I engaged in a rather surprising topic of conversation with your sister Mary this evening after quadrille," he began.

Elizabeth looked upon him with no small amount of surprise. "Little conversation with Mary can be said as riveting, so surprising must be the topic if conversation can be had," she said. "Upon what subject did you launch?"

"The proposal of marriage offered you by the hand of Mr. Collins," Darcy said uncomfortably, not willing to say the words lest they should prove true. They were confirmed by the peal of laughter bursting forth from his wife the next minute. "I take it by your reaction that that is your confirmation of such ridiculous happenings?"

"Only too true, however much I would love to deny its accuracy," Elizabeth said. "He considered it his duty, and as Jane had Bingley as excuse and I had not you, I was chosen as the next viable victim."

Darcy's feelings defused a little by the teasing, light tones his wife employed. "I find it surprising that he did not go down the line of Bennet sisters further."

"You cannot find it very surprising, you who have had to endure a conversation with Mary," Elizabeth teased him. On the landing, surrounded by no one but each other, she took up his hands in her pretty fingers and met his eyes. "I made no mention of it to you as I find it an embarrassing piece of our family's personal history. If I could wipe it from the memory of all who knew, I would do it in the span of a heartbeat. I have never, and will never, find any romantic inclining towards my cousin grow within my breast, and you should not fear that my heart longs for anyone but mine husband."

Darcy realized how his soul needed such reassurance, and while not having expressed its need, Elizabeth saw it and soothed it. He said, "And mine not for anyone but mine wife." He kissed her fingers.

Elizabeth smiled, and as their trip resumed up Rosings Park's richly carpeted stairs, made mention, "Pray don't bring this up again while we are engaged with guests, lest your aunt or my mother decide it an inexhaustible choice of conversation. I prefer it out of public forum, as to further blur its potency in our memories."

Darcy almost chuckled. "I shall remain silent on it for as long as I draw breath, be rest assured." The less the happy Darcies talked of Mr. Collins wanting to marry Lizzy, the better. Of all the ridiculous things that man decided to say to see light of day, this was by far the worst.

**Mr. Collins is just . . . something else, LOL.**

**Thanks for reading! Review?**


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